


Meeting the In-Laws

by Porphyrios



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Awkward Conversations, Domestic Fluff, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Fluff, Hobbit Culture & Customs, In-Laws, M/M, Smials, Tea, Yavanna's Gardens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27760423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porphyrios/pseuds/Porphyrios
Summary: When Thorin and Bilbo were reunited in the Halls of Mahal, it never occurred to the dwarf that he might have to go with Bilbo to meet his in-laws.  Now, however, the time has come.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 21
Kudos: 228





	Meeting the In-Laws

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of domestic fluff for everyone; not a lot of plot here, I'm afraid. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> FYI, this fic is set in the Mirror-Verse of @Tamloid, same as Dripping Water. If you haven't read the original story by @Tamloid, go do it!

"Are you ready?" Bilbo asked. It was clearly a rhetorical question, Thorin realized; there was only one possible answer. They were standing outside a pleasant smial in Yavanna's Gardens, having left the mountainhalls behind, both clothed in the best formal-informal clothes dwarven tailors could make, though leaving said dwarves in misery from their utter refusal to consider gems or mithril thread. Thorin had initially intended to come bearing lavish gifts, to Bilbo's utter horror; he still didn't understand what sort of family wouldn't welcome proof that their child would be showered in riches and provided every wish, but his husband had insisted (after reviving from his rather dramatic attack of the vapors) that only flowers and at most a small gift would be accepted. Taking the hint, Thorin forwent the gift, though it rankled him deeply.

Looking down, Thorin admired the well smoothed and laid granite doorstep, polished with both love and use. The intoxicating scent of flowers rose from both sides of the tiny walk, sprays of color filling the small garden. Deriving a tiny bit of comfort from a familiar stone in the middle of all the flowers and fripperies, he nodded stoically. He needn't have bothered, as Bilbo was already ringing the bell.

A small hobbit woman opened the door, startling Thorin. After all the descriptions of Belladonna from Bilbo, he wasn't sure what to expect; half the stories made her sound as wise as a wizard (wiser than some wizards perhaps, he snorted, remembering Radagast) and the other half made her sound fierce as a dragon. Whatever he had thought she might be like, this tiny, smiling lady in a simple dress and apron with Bilbo's shining eyes and blondish curls wasn't it at all. "Mum!" Bilbo cried and it was as though she had teleported forward to clutch him to herself, almost crushing the flowers he carried.

"Oh my boy, Bilbo, my boy," she sighed, patting him all over, drawing back and giving him a look so full of love it made Thorin feel like a voyeur before hugging him again. Without opening her eyes, she shouted "Bungo! It's Bilbo!" A murmur came from the smial and another hobbit came out who could have been Bilbo's twin at first glance. The clothes he was wearing were almost identical to the ones Thorin had seen Bilbo wear in his house, the sober waistcoat and braces holding up hobbit-style trousers, and his hair was exactly like Bilbo's and his wife's. The only difference was his features. His nose was a bit more snubbed, his eyebrows not quite the same, his eyes a rich brown instead of hazel, but anyone seeing him with Bilbo would know them to be close kin. He came out and beamed and embraced Bilbo much more decorously than his wife.

"My Bilbo! Gracious, it's been so long. Welcome, lad, welcome!" he said with a happy little sigh. "You must come in and..." he trailed off as he looked at Thorin, obviously seeing him for the first time. Immediately he drew back and nodded formally. "Good day to you, Master Dwarf. How may we help you?" Bilbo gave a little self-deprecating chuckle.

"Papa, Mum, we have so much to talk about. This is... well, this is Thorin Oakenshield, my... my husband." Thorin watched him swallow nervously, looking for all the world like Kili caught in the midst of some mischief. Even so, the dwarf sighed, that's my cue. He bowed deeply, deeper than he would have for another king.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, at your service." Two stunned hobbit faces peered at him. Bilbo gulped again, looking even more like a child who had just dropped the expensive vase his mother had told him multiple times not to touch. "An honor to meet Bilbo's parents at last. He's told me many stories about you."

"I see," Belladonna said faintly while eyeing Thorin up and down, "I would say that I wished I could say the same, but clearly you came... a bit after our time." The uncomfortable reminder of death dampened the conversation, as it did in the mountain. After a brief but terribly awkward moment Bungo harrumphed irritably, peering again at Thorin as though he thought the dwarf might do something disreputable if left unmonitored. Bilbo was staring at his fingers, which were twisting around themselves. Belladonna clapped her hands decisively. "Well! Clearly we do have a lot to talk about, as Bilbo said. Why don't we all go inside and catch up. I have a lovely plum tart and we can have some tea."

They made their way inside a smial that reminded Thorin so much of Bag End that it startled him. Dark paneled walls gave way to a white plastered ceiling, and comfortable furniture and knickknacks filled the space, giving it a warm, inviting look that seemed natural to hobbits. Despite the warm smial, Bilbo had a tight look around his lips and the corners of his eyes that told the dwarf all too clearly how close he was to tears. He reached out to set a comforting hand on Bilbo's back but the scandalized, almost terrified look he got made him draw his hand back in surprise. "Thorin!" Bilbo hissed, as though he had just taken his breeches down, then promptly followed his mother into the kitchen leaving a bemused dwarf staring after him. The dwarf glanced at his hand, looked around, sighed, and followed Bilbo's father into the parlor where he glumly took a seat. Bungo was very pointedly cleaning and examining a carved pipe Thorin remembered seeing on a stand on Bilbo's desk with no trace of eye contact. The dwarf sat awkwardly, leaning forward, feeling as though he were needed somewhere else (and knowing, even as he did so, that this was just a trick by his mind to get him away from this horribly uncomfortable moment).

"Well, Master Dwarf," Bungo said, still not looking up but managing to make the title sound thoroughly disreputable, "and how do you know my son?" His tone made it clear that he suspected dire things about the answer.

"We..." Thorin began, then sighed. Where to begin? "Has Bilbo told you anything about his life?" Bungo's lips formed a tight, bitter line... one which Thorin knew well, and dreaded seeing on the face of his own beloved.

"He has not," the older hobbit said in a tight voice. "This is the first time we have seen him since..." he trailed off, glaring at the pipe in his hand for a moment before removing all expression from his face. With that, Bungo glanced out the window nearby. "Perhaps we should talk about something else. Might rain later," he said determinedly and Thorin fought the urge to bang his head against the furniture.

"I apologize," he said (and hadn't that gotten easier to say since he died!), "I do not wish to hide or misrepresent anything, I merely wished to know where to begin and not repeat what you might already know. I was the leader of a group of my kin on a quest to reclaim our homeland from a dragon. We..." Bungo's scoff was loud enough to make Thorin momentarily lose his train of thought. He glanced over with an eyebrow raised only to see Bungo glaring at him with unabashed scorn. Well, Thorin thought philosophically, at least he's looking at me.

"If you are proposing to tell me some sort of fairy tale about dragons, Master Dwarf, I'd suggest that your time would be better spent elsewhere," Bungo began just as Belladonna shouted "Lobelia Bracegirdle did _WHAT_?!" in a tone of furious disbelief from the kitchen, quickly followed by a crash. Bungo interrupted himself and cleared his throat, casting a worried glance at the kitchen door. Thorin noted with amusement that he and Bungo had both made exactly the same face at the interruption, which seemed somehow significant. Before his husband's father could continue, the dwarf spoke again.

"I assure you, it is no fairy tale. The dragon was quite real. It destroyed my grandfather's kingdom of Erebor quite thoroughly, drove us all from the mountain, and there it stayed for well over a century. I will take an oath in front of my creator or your Green Lady, if you wish," he said with asperity, causing Bungo to flush and look away, grumbling. "At any rate, before my group left the Blue Mountains Tharkûn, or Gandalf as Bilbo calls him, had recommended Bilbo to me as a burglar." Bungo leapt to his feet, face crimson and brows drawn down furiously. He pointed a quivering finger at Thorin, who stared at him in mild alarm.

"How dare you, sir!" he barked. "No son of mine would resort to thieving! I would invite you to leave this smial at once!" Thorin bowed his head, resisting the urge to hold it with both hands. Bilbo's head peeped around the corner, eyes wide in despair, but vanished back into the kitchen at his mother's call. The dwarf shook his head stubbornly, hands clenched together in front of him.

"It was not as it sounds. The whole thing was a deception; it was a lie of the wizard, told for his own purposes," Thorin said firmly. "Bilbo was no more a burglar than I am a hobbit. I meant no dishonor to you or your house, Mister Baggins, though I will of course leave if you wish. Many things in this story are not what they appear to be at first glance, I am afraid." He waited a beat, but Bungo seemed to have accepted his apology after a fashion, though he was once again seated, though staring fixedly at his pipe with his mouth drawn into a taut, angry line. Thorin decided to cut his losses. "The entire story would take too long to tell. Suffice it to say that Bilbo was invaluable, he defended my group in general and myself in particular from various threats. Indeed, we should never have reached the mountain at all if it were not for him. His wisdom, common sense and courage were an inspiration to us all."

"I see." Bungo said shortly. "Though I cannot imagine my son, who I had previously thought to be proper and respectable, wandering off on any sort of adventure at all, let alone anything as hair-raising as what you describe. Nevertheless. Am I to assume that after your success, you turned my son's head with dwarven treasure?" Thorin had maintained a hold on his temper to this point, though Bungo seemed quite a bit more irascible than Bilbo had described (or indeed, than Thorin had ever expected). Even so, his patience was reaching an end.

"Mister Baggins," Thorin said with a piercing look, "I feel I have been quite polite. Please do not insult me or your son by implying that he was the sort to be led astray by riches. That is in no way his character; quite the opposite, in fact." Even in his ill temper, Bungo seemed to realize that he had crossed a line. Still, the dwarf sighed in the safety of his own mind, he supposed based on what Bilbo had told him the entire thing was a bit overwhelming. Bungo would have been taken aback sufficiently by a dwarf son-in-law before the mention of adventures and wizards and dragons; as it was, the older hobbit was probably feeling quite cast adrift. Bilbo's father nodded once.

"My apologies in turn, Mister... Oakenshield, was it?" Bilbo's father replied sheepishly. "My temper seems to have run away with me. Pray continue." Thorin nodded and forced a pleasant expression back onto his face.

"I did not expect much of him at first, I must admit. Your people are not known for being fond of leaving the Shire," Thorin said as Bungo harrumphed quietly and fiddled with his pipe. "I must confess that I was not particularly friendly to him at first. Nevertheless, the further we went, the more he proved over and over that he was quite capable of holding his own. After he had saved me from slaughter by orcs and imprisonment by elves, had deceived the dragon, and then..." he stopped speaking, refusing to describe his own descent into madness. Firming his jaw, he caught Bungo's eye by staring fixedly at him. "Mister Baggins, please permit me to speak clearly. Based on your actions thus far in this visit, I suspect that your opinion of me is a bit poor. You do not feel that I am worthy of your son's attention. I am forced to agree."

The older hobbit almost choked at this statement, and dropped his (thankfully unlit) pipe in shock. After spluttering for a moment and fetching the pipe from his lap, he choked out "Beg pardon?"

Thorin smiled mirthlessly. "I said you are correct. Bilbo Baggins is a far better person than I am now, or likely ever shall be. I have never and can never claim otherwise. I cannot imagine what good fortune has given me the opportunity to catch the eye of someone so much better than me, and I thank my Maker every day for the privilege of knowing him."

"I... see." Bungo looked up for the first time with weighing eyes, seeming to properly see Thorin for the first time. "All of this is unusual to say the least, but I... hm. How did you come to be married, then? Did you return to the Shire with him after all this," a brief purse of the lips, "adventuring you decribe?" Thorin was forced to look away.

"We... that is to say, no." He grimaced. "It's difficult to explain. There was... there was a great war after the dragon was slain. The orcs came, my kin came from the Iron Hills, the men of Laketown, the elves of Mirkwood, all came and fought. It would take a scholar to explain and a bard to tell the story properly, and I fear I am neither. I was slain in that war and Bilbo was left to live without me. We had never spoken of what was between us. Nor acted on it," he said quickly, noticing Bungo's brows dropping precipitously. "We both knew by that point that we were... more to each other than traveling companions. More than friends. My people teach that each dwarf has a true mate, only one, which is born to be their complement. Bilbo is mine. I knew it then, and I waited here in the mountain halls until he came at last. I feared..." memories of that time almost swept him away again, the gnawing uncertainty, the fear that Bilbo would change his mind, that he didn't feel the same, that any of a thousand things might happen to shatter Thorin's fragile hopes. Bungo was staring at him openly now, face conflicted. "I feared many things," he finally continued. "But when he arrived here, the first place he came was to the mountain, to, er, speak to Mahal on my behalf." He chuckled in spite of himself at the memory. "For the first time we spoke of our love openly, and after we were married as dwarves marry. I apologize for not seeking your blessing in advance, and will accept what punishment you deem appropriate." At this, he bowed his head. Bungo seemed lost in thought.

Bilbo's father opened his mouth, closed it again, and stared off into space. It was a bit eerie seeing mannerisms that Thorin knew so well on someone he had only just met, but even so it was fascinating to glimpse the chain of Bilbo's origin, these behaviors passed down from others to the one he knew. At that precise moment, Belladonna swept in carrying a tea tray piled high with pastries and Bilbo followed behind with a truly ornate china tea pot. In this environment, the dwarf could see why Bilbo portrayed his mother as he did; she looked truly formidable, smiling with a perfect hostess' smile that gave away nothing, with sharp, dark eyes that didn't miss a single thing going on in the room. In spite of himself, he was reminded of Dis. For his part, Bilbo cast his eyes around the room immediately, going from the dwarf to Bungo and back again, and seemed a bit puzzled by what he saw. "Well, my apologies for how long that took, Mister Oakenshield." She set out a plum tart which made Thorin's mouth water, along with a plate of assorted biscuits and sweet tartlets and passed him a cup. She immediately began cutting and serving the tart and other pastries.

"Please, I beg you, call me Thorin," the dwarf said with what was trying to be a smile. Bilbo sighed and looked down, fiddling with the edge of his saucer. Belladonna nodded and smiled with determination.

"And you must call me Bell," she said firmly, giving an inscrutable glance towards Bungo. He seemed fascinated with the items on his plate, not looking up, and she gave a brief huff. "Since clearly we are already kin; any person my Bilbo marries is dear to me. Now tell me, Thorin, Bilbo says you were a king? Where was your kingdom?" Behind her, Bilbo put his head in his hands as his father bristled again.

"A king!" he said shortly, before Belladonna gave him a plate and her hand landed lightly on his knee. He cleared his throat and in a slightly embarrassed tone said "That is to say... yes, where was this kingdom?" Thorin glanced at Bilbo for guidance, but his husband looked like he was ready to hide under the table. Needless to say, no useful guidance was forthcoming.

"I wasn't a king for very long, I'm afraid," he finally said. "It was more of an honorary title in exile for a century, signifying nothing but the shame of my grandfather's loss. Curiously enough it was the very quest to reclaim my kingdom where I met your son. We retook Erebor, perhaps known to you as the Lonely Mountain, but shortly after we had done so I was struck down in a great battle with orcs. Bilbo escaped harm," he glanced over with a smile, "but my wounds claimed me. My cousin Dain Ironfoot ended up rebuilding the kingdom I had fought so hard to claim and I ended up here in the Halls of Mahal waiting for Bilbo." This time when he glanced over, Bilbo was smiling at him for the first time since they arrived. Having learned at least a bit about hobbits, Thorin took a careful bite of the plum tart and said "This is delicious, thank you." Belladonna's smile was approving, though Bungo still seemed taken aback by the revelation of Thorin's royal status.

The conversation meandered a bit as they ate their tea, veering from Thorin's past to what had happened in the Shire after their passing. Thorin started to tell a story about the Hall of Mirrors, but his husband quickly shushed him and changed the subject. As Bilbo filled his parents in on various items of local gossip from his time, Thorin sat and quietly admired his husband's face. Bilbo always seemed delighted to be in the mountain and explore with Thorin, but his joy at speaking with his parents again caused him to glow in a way the dwarf found stunningly beautiful. As for Belladonna and Bungo, they slowly relaxed, setting aside their disquiet at the dwarf in their midst in joy at finally seeing their child again. Finally Belladonna said "You must stay for dinner," and Bilbo began making his excuses. While this intricate social dance went on, Bungo glanced over at Thorin.

"Mister Oakenshield, perhaps you'd care for a pipe outside?" Bilbo glanced up sharply, but kept speaking to his mother as Thorin nodded. Together, he stepped outside the smial with the older hobbit and sat beside him on a low bench, eerily similar to the one he remembered from the garden at Bag End. Bees flitted lazily from flower to flower, and the late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over everything, making Thorin astonished at how much Yavanna's Garden looked like the actual Shire (or perhaps vice versa). The dwarf produced his pipe from inside his coat and thanked Bungo for the offer of a pouch of pipeweed, and they sat quietly for a moment, puffing on their pipes. After Thorin had sent his third set of smoke rings flying off into the late afternoon sky, Bungo spoke in a quiet voice. "You know," he murmured, "I was surprised Bilbo settled down at all. And that he did so with a dwarf, well, you'll pardon my shock, I hope."

"Think nothing of it," Thorin said in a similar tone, surprised to get even this much of an apology. Bungo looked off across the hedges to the road. "Though the invitation to call me Thorin was extended to you as well." The older hobbit fixed him with a bright eye before looking away.

"Very well. Thorin. I wasn't sure what to think of you. Still don't, to be honest. But one thing you said impressed me. You said that you didn't feel that you deserved Bilbo, and that you felt privileged every day to know him. I must say, there's many the time I've thought that very same thing about his mother." Thorin nodded, touched by the admission. They sat in a silence that was a bit more companionable than it had been. "We look forward to seeing more of you, now that you know where we are."

"It would be a pleasure," Thorin said. "And you two are welcome to visit us as well in the Halls of Mahal. I will ask Bilbo to speak on your behalf. Surely they cannot keep out my in-laws; such relations are as sacred to dwarves as they are to hobbits." Bungo's snort of amusement was loud, shocking a finch pecking at the ground in the garden so that it flew away.

"That bad, eh?" Thorin turned to protest but saw the mischief he knew all too well reflected in brown eyes. Bungo chuckled again. "I suppose you'll do, Thorin. As long as we don't have to call you Your Majesty. Don't hold with such things around the Shire, even in this place." Thorin laughed outright at that.

"The only kings the Shire ever had were hardly of the line of Durin, Mister Baggins. I think we can skip such formalities." Finishing their pipes, they went back inside where Bilbo was negotiating an armistice with his mother, promising to return for dinner 'quite soon' with Thorin since they couldn't stay that night. After a fond farewell to Thorin and several more rounds of hugs with Bilbo, Belladonna and Bungo waved them goodbye as they made their way back to the entrance to the mountains.

"What did you say to him?" Bilbo hissed, frowning at Thorin's smile. "I leave and he's shouting, I come back and he's inviting you out for a pipe? Thorin, what did you say?" All in all, the dwarf thought, a worthwhile day.


End file.
